Coloring the soul

Staring through an endless sea of weathered soulsroaming alone through the great unknown.Baring jagged teeth at me,they seem to be reaching out to tell mesomething I need to know.It's useless, though.They're free of tongues and,with rotted gums, I hear only screamstwixt the blood and nonsenserupturing the air with a chord of despairmuch akin to another I've heard...Escaping from sleep and the haunt of these wretched dreams,I must ease my mind to finda piece of quiet that I can rest uponand speak freely on God and politicsand all the other horrors of the world.Meaning seems lost in this modern conquest.As Rome expands I can hear her groaningunder the weight of the question of whetherto serve for this country is to serve foractual societal progressor if it's gradual battlefor global rule over men and religion,effectively crushing the ideals of the two.All of them will fall before us. What have we become?"The soul becomes dyed with the color of its thoughts."God damn us all. What have we become?